These are my 3 trauma triggers.
My best friend was like whoa you need to talk to your therapist about this so you can get over it.
I told her I was just recently able to put my trauma into words and that is step one.
I never really fully understood my traumas until I left home.
Being able to write about my traumas is really healing.
This is Step 2.
I encourage everyone to write.
Even if you write a letter and throw it away.
I build a cabin on my dad's property out of recycled redwood decking we got from a neighbor.
I was going to have another neighbor build the cabin professionally but I didn't want a normal cabin.
Plus I didn't want to pay $5000 for myself to have a nice home but I did pay $4000 for our firewood to have a nice home.
I build it on the shell of an old sheep pen.
Put in a floor, walls and used recycled plywood from another neighbor for a ceiling.
I had no plan... I just built.
The cabin (7x9) had no windows and it had a really unusual door.
My dad said I would do great in solitary confinement.
I called it my coffin.
I told other people it was my cave.
It was like a french door but the bottom didn't open.
And a lot of people asked me why I didn't put a "normal" door on my cabin.
I hemmed and hawwed and said something about practicing my wall front flips for my OCR races while getting in and out of the cabin....
But really, I wanted a new experience when entering my cabin.
I didn't consider it a safe place- But I did consider it new. New is different.
I was so traumatized by opening doors to homes that I created a non-door.
Every time I went to put my hand on the door nob back in the Bay Area it put a rush of adrenaline through my body. Fight or flight was on for the entire time I was home.
In my cabin, you just opened the door by pulling on the whole door. Door nobs are traumatic.
This is why I have adrenal fatigue.
This is also why no one in my life has ever picked a fight with me.
I live with a "I will kill you if you try to fuck with me" vibe that I can't turn off.
This is why I smile a lot at people. It dampens my kill vibe a lot.
It's just engrained into me now.
Some people may think I'm a tough bitch.
I'll be the first to tell you I'm just a traumatized kid.
And bullies at school or anywhere in the world are just traumatized kids too.
When you get constantly picked on at home... you pick on kids at school even if they are bigger than you to get out the frustration and anger and "win" a small battle that will never be won at home.
Confession: When we moved to San Mateo I became a bully in school.
I would run around and kick other kids in the shins.
Everyday at recess.
They still have scars.
One day, in middle school, my friend asked me to stop. And I did.
Anyone who tried to bully me was chased off.
No one ever tried to kick me in the shins back.
If a boy was trying to flirt with me by being an asshole or trying to pick a fight for attention,
I would beat the shit out of him (usually verbally) and he would never talk to me again.
This is why I like nice guys, nice guys are safe.
Assholes that try to talk to me will get verbally, physically, emotionally and whatever the fuck shit talked from me and just walk away.
You will never be able to out shit talk this shit talker.
I go in for the kill with assholes.
I can read your weaknesses like a book.
Only because I see myself in you and know myself pretty well now.
I will call people out on what is bothering them before they even get a full sentence out.
And people that TRY to verbally attack me, especially on my social media usually just get a THANK YOU, THIS IS THE BEST COMPLIMENT EVER!
Nothing diffuses a bully like being complimented.
The hard wiring in the brain actually short circuits.
I know because I couldn't take compliments for a long time and actually had to rewire the circuits in my own brain.
Let's go back to doors....
What was on the other side of that door?
Was I going to be loved or attacked or ignored or combo?
I asked myself THIS WAY EVERY TIME I WALKED INTO MY HOME.
The door is a trigger.
I still think like this even though I have a new home in Sacramento.
Every time I walk up to the door- I stop and think for a second.... what is on the other side of this door? And I have to tell myself it is OK to enter. I take a deep breath and unlock it. Pause and then enter.
My self talk in San Mateo was like, fuck it I'm tired, there is nothing else I can do on the outside, just made a B line for my room and shut the door.
When I walk in I scan around the home and expect the landlady to yell at me for something.
But she doesn't. She is actually really cool. New experience again. Not sure if it's safe but I'm sure it's new. I also need to consciously think about attracting positive energy in the home and not put out vibes for unnecessary drama.
This is a conscious effort I have to make everyday.
The handle is different on this house.
It is on the left side of the door where my other home had the handle on the right side.
This door is painted purple, my old door was green then got painted red.
When I come home from riding my bike, I come in through the back door through the kitchen.
It's glass and I can see who, what, when, where and how of everything in the house before I enter it.
Using the back door gives me considerably less anxiety than the front door.
When I was going to college, I dated this guy and used his window to get in and out of his room.
He thought it was weird and I had to use his front door again.
I dumped him after that due to the anxiety it caused.
Truthfully, walking into any ones house gives me anxiety.
This is why I never go over to hang out at peoples houses.
Hotel rooms are great for me to be alone and to feel at home.
Public places are safe but homes are still traumatic.
This is also why guys who ask me to come over their house and chill out and watch movies give me a lot of anxiety. And I can easily say no.
Really it's no you... it's me.
Going out on Adventures in nature is really relaxing to me.
If a guy planned a date like this... I could say yes instantly.
A house is just a house.
A home is a safe place to be and relax and recharge.
I've lived in many houses but I think this house in Sacramento may be the first home I've ever lived in.
And it's really weird.
I have had so much trauma and drama in my life I can't stand movies.
The fake drama that they created over and over again.... I can see their pattern when I watch movies or TV shows and could track their fake drama. I can track it by my heart rate. Once my heart rate goes up to a certain level, I literally can't handle the TV. I just want to take flight. Or I will pick a fight with the host.
It gives me so much anxiety I just have to tune out to avoid gettting kicked out of the hosts house.
It is not pleasurable or relaxing at all.
It is actually really hard for me to NOT turn off other peoples TV.
But I try at any chance I can get.
When I watch TV my emotional wall goes up and I check out.
I've never owned a TV and never will.
And I dumped a guy because all he wanted to do was watch movies and cuddle.
Books are safe.
I never read fiction.
Non-fiction books are safe.
They are real.
Learning is safe.
Being entertained is traumatic.
I even have Amazon prime and though I have full access to tons of movies... I will never watch them.
When friends invite me to come over and watch something on Netflix, I always say NO.
When people ask me if I have seen this movie or that... or watched this commercial or that... Sometimes I just agree with them... It's easier. I can always look up the cliff notes on my phone and pretend I watched it.
I only do this if I like the person but don't want them to know about my traumas.
This is only for short term relationships.
Long term relationships take time for me to open up about my movie traumas.
People that want to connect through movie watching feel rejected when I say I don't watch TV.
For those of you reading my blog... you are probably saying oh shit clocks... time is traumatic for her too? lol How? Just fucking How can a clock trigger trauma?
I have a clock that ticks 60 seconds for every minute.
When I go to sleep at night it is the only thing I can hear.
My heart beat when I am in the home is twice that at least.
I can feel my heart at night and literally have to consciously think about slowing my heart rate down.
My meditation is just listening to the clock and saying this is probably what a normal heart beat is... and I try to match my heart beat to the clock ticking.
I take deep breathes.
The first night I was in my Sacramento house it was very noticeable.
I've been here for almost 3 weeks and it's gotten better.
I also notice I am going too fast with my piano practice.
But there is apart of the app where I can just practice at a tempo of 125%.
Then I hit every note every time.
This is why I like things fast and at lightning speed.
Because my heart rate can't handle slow.
Last bit about this is when my friend intercepted my voyage to Tijuana.
We were riding around in his car listening to the radio an whenever a slow song came on the radio my heart literally felt like it was dying.
I tried to control his radio by setting up my phone through the blue tooth and when I really couldn't handle it I would ask siri something just for a second to get some relief from feeling like I was dying.
He on the other hand had no idea what kind of torture he was putting me though and was just singing along to the song.
It was his car.
I didn't want to explain myself to him.
He already knows I'm weird as fuck.
But I can't even dance or handle any music under 135 beats per minute.
It literally feels like I'm dying.
This is why when guys make me mixed tapes of slow romantic songs I never listen to them.
But if you see me in a club- I'm high as fuck, singing at the top of my lungs, dancing, and just being fun and crazy.
It's where my heart is at and this is me relaxed.
Moral of the story:
We all have traumas!
You never know what can be a trigger for someone...
I still won't go snowboarding- I don't care- I have a trauma!
But writing it out heals people!
Just writitng this out and sharing it with the world is a great relief to me.
It's out of my soul and I can move forward in my life.
I don't expect people to undertstand my traumas.
Nor do I expect to understand everyone elses traumas.
But writing about it helps!
I've been talking about it for years and it never helped... that is why I moved out of the Bay Area and started over in Humboldt.
I was fucking sick of talking about it and just lived in the woods and healed in the trees.
Now I can process my traumas and write about it and MOVE ON.
I live in a great home now with loving and supportive people that don't want to emotionally abuse me.
They like to read and give me books to read everyday.
We even have a community bookshelf outside my room.
Listening to my clock has helped me chill out a little bit.
I had to change my trauma identity to live to my full potential.
I decided I deserve a normal life.
With normal people.
And this is the work I have to do to get there.
I would rather run 15 miles than deal with my emotions but instead of destroying my body to get to an imaginary finish line, I'm just sitting in bed typing on my computer and doing real internal healing.
Will I loose my edge?
Who the fuck cares?